


Te Adoro

by Jubalii



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Light Petting, Pre-Canon, Someone Help These Hormonal Kids, They're Suppressed by Society's Values, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14133060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: prompt: god, i adore you" + ImectorThere aren’t many places in a small town to meet and be alone, especially if you’re unmarried.Imelda makes do with what she has.





	Te Adoro

**Author's Note:**

> From an ask by mygardenofmuses on my tumblr, from a prompt post.   
> Had to use the excuse to indulge in some lightly spiced fluff! :3c

Héctor was late.

Imelda stood in the clearing, watching the broad, glittering curve of the river as it cut through the woods, heading for the distant haze of mountains she knew lay just beyond the horizon. The afternoon sun was already at a low angle, cutting through only the sparsest branches and casting the glen in a dull, soft twilight. There was only the sound of birds, the quiet hum of the river, the distant murmur of Santa Cecelia.

She wasn’t worried about him; he had much farther to walk than she did. She need only diverge from the lane, cross the fields unseen and slide into the shadowy embrace of the forest. He, meanwhile, had to cross the river at its lowest point and go all the way through town, not to mention a good mile or so besides, before coming to the fields.

And he may have been sidetracked, asked to perform some task for money, which he’d gladly take. She’d have to go back home before sundown, and if he came too late then there was nothing either of them could do. She’d find out on Sunday, when he was _officially_ allowed to see her for the week—always well within the watchful gaze of her parents. He couldn’t even kiss her cheek while her papá was in the room, and that just wouldn’t do for either of them. The longer they courted, the more they both wanted… something. Something that neither of them really knew much about—much less any real names for—but that they both seemed to crave when they met alone out here, away from the eyes of the town.

Not that she was _alone_ , per se. Technically, she had chaperones even when she was out for a walk. Mamá always touted the importance of a girl of seventeen—a young woman, rather—needing supervision when out of the house. But Mamá’s handpicked chaperones were almost too easy to buy off with promises of cakes and shiny coins. It didn’t help that they didn’t want to be stuck with their older sister and her boyfriend anyway, doing ‘gross’ things like holding hands and kissing. No, her twelve-year old twin brothers were off in the woods, doing whatever it was young boys did. They couldn’t be expected to stay away forever; they were too nosy for _that._ But they could make themselves scarce for just a little while.

She looked to the west, squinting against the sun as she listened for any sound of them crashing around in the bushes. The river was too loud; if they were near, it drowned their noise. She was preoccupied enough that she didn’t hear anyone behind her. Before she knew it, she was swept off the ground with a strong arm around her middle, a hand on her mouth to muffle her gasp of shock.

“Sorry I’m late.” She twisted in Héctor’s arms, torn between scolding him for sneaking up on her and relief that he’d managed to show up. His breath panted over her cheeks, the faint glow of exertion in his cheeks a testament to how he must have run all the way from town to make it in time. The irritation from his joke melted at the sight of his lopsided grin.

The other girls in town teased her for courting him. _Maybe he can play that guitar, but look at the size of his nose! It’s like a toucan! And the ears of an elephant! At least he can hear the music! And his hair? It’s always sticking up like a dog’s… not to mention how skinny his little stick arms are!_

_Ay, Imelda; wouldn’t you rather be hugged by a guy with some meat on his bones?_

_You can do better than Hungry H_ _éctor, you know._

What did _they_ know? Alright, maybe she _also_ used to laugh at his big nose and messy hair, back when she didn’t know him as anything more than the weird boy from the poor quarters who wanted to hold her hand at the plaza. But he’d done a lot of growing, when she stepped back to look at him. His nose wasn’t the biggest she’d ever seen, and his ears were cute: especially when they darkened as he blushed. And if he was too skinny, it didn’t bother her in the slightest. It just meant she could wrap her arms around him and hold tighter then they could _their_ wooers. The music wasn’t his selling point; it was an added bonus.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she admitted, automatically reaching for his hair. She loved it best of all his features. It was messy, but it was so thick and soft, practically _begging_ for her to run her fingers through it over and over. He avoided her hands, grabbing her wrist and dragging her towards his favorite resting place beneath an old gnarled elm tree. She could sit for countless hours there, listening to him as he crafted little tunes, silly rhymes to make the twins laugh and half-finished, nonsensical ballads about how her eyes looked like twin deer running through the forest or her mouth was shaped like the sweetest _cuernito_.     

“And miss this?” He sank to the ground, gathering her up before she could protest and holding her on his lap. She pushed halfheartedly at his chest, but secretly she enjoyed being held like this, almost like a guitar, a precious thing to cradle and enjoy. She leaned against him, worming her arm between his neck and shoulder and _finally_ sinking her hand in his locks. She unraveled the tangles in her fingers, her ear flush to his chest; his voice echoed around the quickened beating of his heart. “I already missed one week; do you think I could handle another Sunday if I didn’t get a break now?”

“I told you I was sorry,” she laughed, the sound falling short on a quick breath when his lips found the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Mamá—she—” It was getting hard to think, her mind focused solely on the feeling of his warm mouth on her skin. “Um… she….”

“The sewing,” he mumbled, drawing her closer as he shifted against the tree. “I remember.” His hand drifted up, knuckles sliding to trace the shape of her jaw. He stopped at her ear, calloused fingers tickling her hairline before falling to follow the curve of her neck back to her shoulder. Her eyelids were suddenly too heavy; they drifted closed, teeth sinking into her cheek as she fought in vain against the shiver running down her spine. Every part of her he touched was hot in the cool shade of dusk, a trail of fire burning through her veins and settling in her lower stomach.

“Héctor….” He inhaled sharply at the sound, an equal shudder working its way through his reedy frame. He always seemed to like it when she said his name like that. She reached for his cheeks with both hands, drawing him to her for a short, chaste kiss. They didn’t have much time left, and like him she needed _something_ to carry her until they could arrange another meeting. He followed her each time she tried to pull away, his mouth insistently coaxing more and more from her until she was dizzy and breathless.

She pushed him away when it became too much, her lungs begging for air even as she panted. He normally obeyed her silent commands, but today he merely moved focus to her chin, her cheek, up to her temple and then back down to her jaw, gaging her reaction as he peppered her with tiny, open-mouthed kisses. She kept her eyes closed, her hands tangling in that lush, beautiful hair near his nape. He made a small, unconscious sound when she accidentally tugged it, yanking her even closer in response.

Then his mouth moved lower, over her pulse, down her neck, almost to her collarbone. Hot, so hot, and then cool when he moved to another spot, his fingers playing riffs over her spine and along her ribs, down to the small of her back and around to her waist. It didn’t occur to her that they should stop; on the contrary, she suddenly wanted—needed—for him to kiss every inch of her. She knew that they were stepping closer to that strange, unspoken line between them, the one that only married women should dare to cross. That this was the entire reason for chaperones. That her bro—

“ _H_ _éctor_ —” Was that her voice? She sounded as if she’d been running for miles. “Héctor, we have to—stop, please—” He looked up at her, his face burning and mouth slack. If the heat in her own cheeks could be believed, she wasn’t faring much better. “M-my brothers,” she whispered, looking over his shoulder at the murky forest around them. “It’s getting dark.” She was apologetic, wishing that they could just stay in the moment for as long as they liked without the repercussions. She was already pushing her luck as it was, staying out this late.

“I know.” He smiled, lips barely trembling, and then cleared his throat. She felt a rush of shyness, fighting the urge to wipe at the cool, damp spots on her neck. She pushed gently and slid off his lap, resting beside him with her back to the trunk of the elm. He pushed the wrinkles out of his trousers, busying himself with his clothing; she did the same, smoothing her skirts and brushing the worst of the stray hairs behind her ears. He cleared his throat again, louder this time, and when he spoke it was with an almost business-like manner.

“I’ll try to come earlier next time,” he promised. She turned to him, looking at the triangle of skin she could see between the collar of his shirt and the first button. Her fingers itched to unbutton the white fabric, to feel over the skin she saw when he was out working with the men in town. To run her fingers over the sparse hair on his chest, to see if his stomach was ticklish. She felt another rush of heat and quickly looked up, meeting his gaze.

“And I’ll try to do the same,” she agreed. She looked over her shoulder, and seeing no twins she smoothed the hair from his forehead with gentle motions. His grin grew into something easier, more familiar, and he relaxed under her fingers. She pressed a kiss to his forehead when she was through, and heard him chuckle under her.

“ _Dios_ ….” She leaned back to see him staring at her with an odd expression, one he seemed to save for her and her alone.

“What is it?” He said nothing at first, staring at her face as if memorizing it for another time. It was only after he cupped her chin, drawing her back for their final kiss of the week, before he answered: two simple words that managed to shake her to the core nonetheless.

“ _Te adoro_.”


End file.
